Tag Archives: high school

Slug – poem

Small and brown.
Almost unseen by
Unforgiving feet,
Squishing, flattening.
Slippery and gooey,
Sliding silently across the grass,
Never to know it’s fate,
Eating cabbage leaves,
Grasses and plants.
Hiding under rocks,
Eyes drawn in
away from danger,
As yet unseen.
Coming out at night,
Slippery, sliding, messy.
Leaving behind only,
A trail of slime,
shiny and sticky.

Yet another from high school, this time I’ve shortened the original.


Friends and Belonging.

“I have no friends. I am friendless. No one likes me, and no one talks to me. Well, not unless they have to, or they want to pick on me. They call me a snob, and poke fun at my clothes, or my hair. I’m a snob because I don’t talk to anyone (I don’t know what to say so I don’t say anything at all), and I think I’m better than everyone (well, sometimes I do, because I don’t backstab or bitch about people, how can I when I don’t even talk?). I have one friend. But she has moved away, and we don’t talk as much any more.
I withdraw into myself, it’s easier that way. Better to be teased for not saying anything than what I do say”

If I could have written this when I was in high school, that is what it would have said. Sure girls are horrible, but boys can just as bad. Girls are cliquey, and can perfect the ostracising, boys are just nasty in their straight forward nature of saying it how it is. High school sucks, kids are mean. And some of them don’t grow up, or they do, but stay “mean girls” – we’ve all met them.

College was better. I had a great group of fiends, but as they lived in town and I had to travel, there was still a lot I just couldn’t be a part of. I dealt with that easily enough, I had a boyfriend and so weekends were full of doing other things. They were good friends, and we had some fun times. But did we stay in touch afterwards? No. We went our separate ways and I spose it means we weren’t real friends, or at least I wasn’t.

Friendships come and go. I heard somewhere that people come into our lives for a reason, a season or a life time. I’ve had plenty of seasons, a few reasons (if I am to read those ones correctly) and one (at least) for a life time. I think 30 years is a good start to that. I hate confrontation, and try where ever possible to not get into one. I will run and not do anything before I confront you. Passive aggressive much!? But watch out if I do blow my top at you. Believe me, you will know I m not happy. I’ve had a few of those too. Make me nervous as hell, and feel sick, but knowing I am doing the right thing. Most of these are around because I would run head long into a friendship, it was an all or nothing thing, (like I am with most interests I persue), and of course it all falls apart rather quickly (the friendship that is). Somewhat desperate I think now.

I learnt my lesson. The hard way. And withdrew into myself. Back to the teenager who wouldn’t tall anyone. Who didn’t want to make friends in case they got hurt. I survived.
I became aloof, and would be reserved when it came to making new friends. We moved several times, and after another full on, gang busters friendship that fell apart (did I not learn my lesson? And I have since sorted it out and apologised) it took me several years of slowly slowly before I said ‘yes, we are friends’. I am vaguely still in touch with them, hubby is more so as he sees them on and off when he’s at work and our eldests’ still really close friends.

Why am I saying this?
In the last couple of months, (yes, it has taken me that long, we’ve been back for two years already) to find, know and feel I belong.
Because of my delightful friendship history I am wary of those who want to be my friends. Not wary so much, but unsure as to why they want to be my friend. What is it about me?
I first thought of this just recently when I was asked to a birthday dinner with a group of friends. Yes, I call them friends, we can catch up in the street and chat. But it’s more than that. It’s the size of the group, the closeness, and that they want me to join them.
I know it might sound strange, but once I got home after the dinner, I felt like I belonged. Really belonged. For the first time there were people who expected nothing from me, but me. They have no idea how much it meant to me (although some of them might now, if they read this). I never doubted their friendship, but was more wary about giving myself fully, too quickly. Last night cemented it for me.

This is a huge thing for me to say, and hubby aside, not many people know about it. It’s also not something I ever thought writing about, until recently I realised that at some point, I had to.


And cause its playing on the radio as I write this, some lyrics from Brass in Pocket, one of my all time favourite songs.
Oh, ’cause I gonna make you see
There’s nobody else here, no one like me
I’m special, so special
(I got to have some of your attention, give it to me!)

Maybe a little narcissistic, maybe that’s just me.

(Photo comes from this link)

Fun Run get fit time…

Three weeks ago I made the call to do the Mother’s Day Classic, the 8 km fun run.  Rather, I opened my big mouth and said “I’m doing the 8k run..” WT..??? Did I say that? Really.  Well, there it is. Out.  Even when I was registering I could have made it the 4k run, but no, I had said 8 so the 8 it was.
I have a thing for running – during High school it was my thing.  Anything over 400m was my race, and the longer the better, although we only went to 1500m where I was.  That or the cross-country.  Granted I have not done much since High School.

Anyway, so there is just over two weeks left and how have I been going?
The first few times I realised just how unfit I am.
If you remember the post about the treadmill (here) then you may well be thinking that I am fit as a fiddle and can run for miles and miles.  Well after that post, life got in the way, friends came to visit, we went away, life got in the way again.. and I haven’t really been on the treadmill or anywhere else for that matter since.

My aim here was to get a picture and make some smart remark about whipping me into shape and doing silly drawings to enhance it. Bah. That fell in a heap…

My first few runs were pretty pathetic but I have improved, not a great deal, but I’m definitely better.
I asked a couple of fitness gurus (one of them was Sarah of The Healthy Diva) to give me a few pointers on what is the best way to attack this challenge.

The results of that were pretty well the same – this is good – :
interval training – on a time or distance ratio,
combining both inside and outside work,
keep the body guessing (swap and change the routine and workouts)
as well as some strength exercises.
And always finish with stretches, which I do anyway.  Found out the hard way months ago, that not stretching after a 5k walk results in not being able to move the next day.

So with a 3k run yesterday done and hitting the gym tomorrow I think I might actually do this thing.
There are moments though where I have doubt on having bitten off too much, will I be able to do and not look like a twit.

what I'd like to look like when I run...

This brings me to another point we talked about, which was what I expected out of the run.

A: run more than I walk.
B: finish the race.
C: have no injuries before, during or after the race.
D: to be decided on the day… maybe I check my watch and try to beat a certain time, ‘race’ a few people to the finish line…. whatever I decide as things pan out.

My goal is to finish within an hour.  And given I have never done this before I am not sure about how realistic this is… but know it’s more than achievable, for someone like me.

My only hope is that with another 2+ weeks of training my body will remember what it used to do in High school and things will fall into place on the day.

and she does it!

What challenge like this have you done? Did it work out?

keep up the hard work 🙂

images courtesy of Google.